Header: #9/"Ready, Steady, Go!"/ItaSaku
Title: Diva
Author/Artist: Lady Kyoshoku
Claim: Uchiha Itachi a

nd Haruno Sakura
Theme: #9, "Ready, Steady, Go!"
Rating: T+ (Language, violence and sexual themes)
Disclaimer: IF I OWNED NARUTO, I WOULD HAVE KILLED OFF SASS-GAY LONG AGO.

Summary: For someone who was supposed to know it all, Itachi really didn't think about what he was getting himself into. Theme #9 for LJ.

Diva
[ˈdiːvə/]: translation: 'goddess'; noun/slang.
1. A shrewd or unscrupulous person who knows how to circumvent difficulties.

Twenty-one years old, this woman was, and every gang member under the Tokyo sun was dying to meet her.

A diva is what she was: hustled money and made profits for her side, and was one of the best paid and most dangerous women that he had ever heard of. He had never seen her once, but he was supposed to be the one handling Akatsuki's financial relations because Konan had been injured in a firefight. She was getting too old (the remark had caused her to darken considerably) to do the job, and they now needed someone to lean upon to provide the money. It was his job to persuade her, to bring her over to the proper side. He had been informed to be professional and treat her with respect, though Kisame had so nicely told him that he should be scared shitless.

Uchiha Itachi did not scare, and certainly not for some woman who knew how to pull a trigger.

No, he would show her who was boss, and she sure as hell was going to listen to him. It would not take long before she was wrapped around his finger, he was sure, and he had every right to be cocky himself being the son of the former police captain had its perks, and he knew his way in and out of the law. The young man hadn't been caught once, bringing in deals and doing work without his father's knowledge. His family had been so proud of his financial success they hadn't bothered to question it, and now he was going to make more cash in one night than his gang had seen in years.

It would involve one hell of a deal, he knew, but it would be easy to out-do her. If she was anything like Konan, she was all talk. The Uchiha nearly grimaced at the thought of another cold, pierced bitch calling the shots in a relationship. There was so much more that could be done with his intelligence, and he had many, many contacts, but apparently Kakuzu had whined so much about finances that Pein had finally shut him up by making Itachi go and fetch this girl. Nothing but the best for the best—that was the reason they hadn't been busted yet.

Now it was nearing midnight, and he was just getting on his way to her headquarters after a briefing, mostly due to the fact that this was an appointment that he had made with her, and she refused to leave her office unless she was the one that desired something. She hadn't even been the one talking on the phone: it had been a rather giggly, overly-honeyed female that had answered it by the name of Ino. The receptionist's methods had been a little unorthodox, but he had been curious as to how her operation ran regardless.

Looking down at the staircase leading to her office, in pristine condition and absent of graffiti and homeless folk, in contrast to the other buildings it seemed that her operation ran pretty damn well. Not many people could afford what looked like bouncers outside their door, or someone to come and clean a staircase in this part of Tokyo. To even have an office was an accomplishment, considering that Akatsuki had not gained theirs until their first large drug score, and the knowledge that she worked alone made it all the more admirable.

Admirable, not daunting in any way. What the hell was Kisame on?

Itachi shook his head, pulling into the free space on the side of the street and getting out of the car. It was nice enough—a racing model, two hundred-fifty horsepower, ran on pure diesel and had gotten him out of enough chases for him to be rather fond of it. Tinted windows and bulletproof glass were necessary precautions, and the demure black paint job was his own choosing, though there was a small, red and white cloud painted on the left side of the bumper. A custom job, courtesy of his boss (and something that he could not talk his way out of).

Cutting through traffic was the easiest way, and he crossed the road without a glance in either direction. His dress pants hardly made a sound while he walked down the stairway and past the guards, giving the well-known gangster the once-over and a curt nod before stepping aside. The door actually slid open on its own, much to his surprise, but it did not cross his face as he made his way inside. He was grateful for the air conditioning, at least: it had been humid and quite warm outside; he did not want any sweat to show on his brow to be left to misinterpretation.

He glanced around, taking in the dark walls and wooden furniture. There were three doors: one was obviously her office, one probably a washroom, and one that looked to be another exit to an underground parkade. There was a desk not far in front of him, and a pretty blonde woman sitting behind it that was typing away on her keyboard, her eyes barely leaving the screen to glance at him. From the looks of it, she must be the woman he had spoken with over the phone, and he silently approached the desk. Before he could open his mouth to speak, however, she cut him off.

"She knows you're here. Centre door, and try not to piss her off." Ino grimaced. "We just had her carpets replaced from last time."

Well then. He gave a slight nod, turning on his heel and shoving his hands into his pockets as he approached the door. His hand was raised to knock, but was stopped by Ino once again. "Just go in. She's expecting you."

The Uchiha placed his hand on the polished brass knob and turned, and instead of being greeted by what he thought he would find—some uptight woman with a severe haircut, or some cheap floozy—he was presented with the sight of what looked to be a classy, exotic woman.

The only problem was that her feet were up on the desk and her chair was leaned back, her eyes focused on an orange-jacketed book that by the looks of it could not be related to her work in any way.

She didn't bother to look up. "Sit. I'm almost done the chapter." He did as he was told, taking a seat in the chair across from her. The woman continued reading, and he took the time to take a good, hard look at her.

Her hair was set into a tousled cascade of pink curls that hung just past her chest, one manicured finger twirling a solitary lock as her eyes scanned the words on the page. Glossed lips were slightly parted in thought, one pale brow raised as if she did not believe the content on the page, though the blush that showed through her makeup was telling him it was not exactly appropriate. Her makeup was simple: smoky eyes that were completed with sooty lashes, expertly applied and complimenting her pretty face. Her jeans were black, interwoven with silver threads that picked up on her glimmering earrings and delicate necklace. Crimson fabric that dipped low in the front drew attention to her chest, and the strappy stilettos on her feet matched perfectly.

The only thing that clued him to the fact she was dangerous was the .45 strapped to her upper right thigh, complete with pink accents. He wondered how her aim was.

He didn't really have time to think about it, because as soon as the thought crossed his mind the book snapped shut. Itachi looked up at the sound, and his eyes fixed on hers. They were the most fascinating shade of green, glimmering like emeralds: it was almost as if everything about her was expensive, and they were oddly familiar. She was not one of those 'divas' that walked the street, no, this woman met business. Her book was quickly replaced in the desk before he had a chance to glance at the cover, and he knew now that the meeting had begun.

"You must be Uchiha Itachi." Her voice was soft and melodic, rather fitting to her angelic features. A mystery, this woman was.

"I am. I assume you know my purpose?"

"Yours and everyone else's," she smirked, and he noticed just how devious it was. So much for being an angel. "But I have heard Akatsuki needs someone… Your hustler was shot, right?"

"Yes, Konan is in medical care as of now," he ignored her giggle, and pressed on, "though she prefers to be called a 'diva'. That is what you call yourself, correct?"

She snorted. "Lemme tell you something. Your girl is no diva: she's probably done things for money that you've never thought of." Her tongue trailed against her lower lip, in thought, searching for the right words. "I've been in this game since I was fifteen, and not once have I done something that would lower my dignity. I betcha I could pull in more money in one day than she could in a week."

"That is why I'm here." This time it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. She was a cocky thing, and he was not going to allow her to degrade him. "My boss wishes to recruit you, and I have an offer you cannot refuse."

That got her attention, and he could not help the smirk that crossed his face. She leaned forwards, her eyes glimmering at the prospect of a challenge. "Oh? Please explain."

"I know how you get your cash—you're a gambler. You take bets that you know you will win, and sometimes you branch out to something… better." The sweet scent of her hair drifted over him as she nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. "I have a case in my car: five million yen. Race me and it will be yours if you win."

"And if I lose?" It sounded like a good deal, but she had been working with men like him for far too long to leave a deal open-ended.

"You join us, and you double the amount." Itachi stated, slinging his arm around the back of his chair while he leaned back. He watched as her brow creased in though for a brief second before splitting into the coyest smile he had ever seen in his life. The look sent a shiver down his spine, and he knew he was in for it. "Do we have a deal, miss…?"

"Call me Sakura—Haruno Sakura—and you're damn right we do, but I want interest."

"Sakura, what do you mean by 'interest'?" He didn't trust her look one bit.

"Nothing huge; I'll inform you when I win. Deal?"

He thought for a moment. The Uchiha was certain he would win, and was dubious to the idea that she could beat him and get what she wanted. Beauty and intelligence: a winning combination, but he was not so interested in her mind. What he was interested in is how the hell she had gotten tangled up in this business, and how she planned to pay him once she lost. Obsidian met jade once more, and she knew by the look in his eyes exactly what he was thinking.

"Deal."

Her hand extended with a triumphant smirk, her perfume wafting towards him and intoxicating his senses. He took it without a second thought, but knew the moment he took it that danger laid waiting.

"Pleasure doing business with you. Ino will arrange a date." She gestured for him to leave, and he rose and turned easily, his words barely heard by the roseate.

"Yes…The pleasure will be all mine."

- $ -

Sakura had arranged for the race to take place on a Friday, in the downtown gang strip that was well- known for such activities. He should have known that she would want people there to witness this, so that if she won she'd be able to take bids for her services. He had mused over her words, mulling over possible strategies in his mind and memorizing shortcuts. Though it was her terrain he would not let her have the advantage, nor would he let her think that she was set to go.

He had informed Pein of his bet, and he had promptly told the Uchiha that if he didn't want to be taken care of permanently he'd better win, and that had been extra incentive. His pride was something to take into consideration as well, but it had never before taken a beating and Itachi was not going to have it start now. Of course it had all been shrugged off, and instead of going himself to pick up the details he had sent Deidara to get them for him—though the explosives master was not exactly trustworthy, Itachi was busy plotting against the pink-haired diva.

When the blonde returned he had the dreamiest smile on his face, and had told the dark-haired male that if he hadn't staked a claim on her he'd better do it now, because she was one hot piece of ass and he was not going to let her get away. Something about her being his masterpiece and knowing that she would 'blow his mind', Deidara had said.

Itachi's eyes had promptly darkened, and he remarked that she would 'blow his mind' in other ways. Deidara had then scowled and handed over the note contained the details, written in slanted, feminine writing that was of course, written in hot pink ink.

And of course his eyes had rolled. She seemed to have a fixation with the colour, and he was tempted to ask if her hair was natural… Though there were other ways to find that out.

Not that he thought about her like that, anyway.

There was no reason to. She was an arrogant, overpaid female with supple, pale skin and a heady scent, her hair long and perfect for sliding his fingers into. And with that smirk, he had not once wondered what else those pouty, full lips could do, or thought about how her skin would taste, nor had he wondered how it would feel to have her writhing beneath his touch, that sultry voice crying out his name, or to have those sinfully long legs wrapped tight around his hips to bring him deeper with every thrust…

Yeah, he never thought about stuff like that. Not even once.

Of course, he had been a bit oblivious to the fact that the Haruno girl had been openly checking him out, and never had he thought to ask her out sometime. Business does not mix with pleasure and it never would in his books, so long as he could keep a hold on his hormones. He was Uchiha Itachi: highly desired bachelor, but completely blank when it came to desire.

He did not desire women. They desired him.

The Uchiha sighed, leaning forward to hit his forehead against the glossy black desk. They had met once, and that had been the only time… Well, he thought so. How could he forget pink hair and that kind of body? It would have been impossible!

But something about those eyes had been familiar. Not the cold fire burning deep within them, but the intelligence that sparked his curiosity.

He could not place it, though, and it was driving him absolutely insane. If he could sum up the woman in one word, it was 'aggravating' (thought his mind was screaming out various words, some of them incredibly inappropriate), and he had to get his mind off her.

Win or lose, he was going to see more of her whether he wanted to or not.

…Then where was the win in this situation?

- $ -

It was Thursday, and there was no reason why she should be feeling like this. She was Haruno Sakura, for Kami's sake, and she was not scared that she was going to lose a bet. She never lost bets.

Ever.

Not that she used underhanded methods, no, because that would be uncultured… But it wasn't like what she did was exactly 'cultured'. Just her way of going about it was. The young woman could recall how she had been trained, and it made her smile every time. Her first sensei had been an expert at excuses and sneaking, as well as an excellent strategist. She had learned the basics from him, other than the things she had already known—she had been trained since she was a young age.

Being the heiress to the Haruno crime family was not exactly glamorous, but it did have its perks. She had been trained in martial arts when she had turned ten, taught how to shoot a gun earlier still. Police records were something of the past when she had learned how to hack computer systems, and the moment they had gotten her a private tutor was the day that she graduated to a whole new level. The girl had always been a prodigy in her family, but instead she had chosen to work for herself—hustling was her deal, and she was damn good at it.

That didn't mean that she had always had the natural talent for it. Her tutor, Hatake Kakashi, had taught her the ropes, but she needed to learn more: there was only so much a female could learn from a male. The only really important thing that she had picked up was how to gain reactions and what men liked— not to mention her Icha Icha obsession, but that was a whole different matter. Instead she had sought out the famed seductress and bet master, Tsunade, and asked for an apprenticeship.

It had gone rather well, and Sakura had quickly learned how to place a bet, tip the odds in her favour, and know which ones to take. Tsunade herself was not the luckiest woman, but she had taught the roseate a good punch or two that had gotten her by, and how to drug someone when they least expected it. It wasn't like she was a bad girl and did it all the time, but it was something that had helped her out of one or more bad situations, not to mention her .45. It was a beaut.

And she would have to use it on that man, Uchiha Itachi, if he somehow managed to outwit her. It would be a crying shame because he was so damn handsome. Not that he was worth perusing or anything, due to the massive size of his air-filled head, but his wandering gaze had not gone unnoticed by the perceptive woman.

Course that wasn't because she was looking at his eyes and how they seemed to grow darker with each second, nor his slender (but strong) hands, thinking about all the pleasures that they could bring. Nope, and it wasn't like she wanted to know what was under that shirt considering how well it fit, showing off his leanly muscled arms and broad shoulders, the angular lines of his face and glossy black hair. Mm, he certainly was delicious, but it was a crying shame that 1: he was a pompous, chauvinist pig, and 2: he was her opponent, and she didn't make it a point to sleep with the proverbial 'enemy'.

There was a chance that she could make an exception, though, but she wasn't going to propose anything. No, the favour she desired was much simpler.

But still, there was no reason why she was so immensely attracted to her ex-boyfriend's older (hotter, sexier, yummier—but Itachi was none of those things, of course) brother.

Sakura sighed, cradling her face in her hands. The first time she had met him she had been smitten with Sasuke, but the way he looked had not escaped her gaze.

But then she and Sasuke had broken up over the fact that she had killed someone (they had been asking for it!) and that someone just happened to be the woman that Sasuke had been cheating on her with. Needless to say, the broad would have ended up dead anyway, but…

It didn't really save their relationship. Not in the least.

And of course Sasuke would have retained a bit of his manly pride if he had just asked her "hey, this chick is really hot and you're halfway across the planet and I swear I'll pay you back", but the fact was that he did not and ended up getting his ass kicked five ways from Sunday inside (and she was not joking) a church.

Course, she had been single since. It was understandable, but now there was this tall, dark and handsome man to focus her attentions on. Not to mention she'd get her interest… Oh yes, yes she would.

- $ -

Much to the young man's surprise, Friday came awfully fast. Not even like fast-food kinda fast, but the kinda fast where you fall over on a treadmill and skin your knees. There was an unpleasant twisting in his stomach as he pulled up to the strip, ignoring the people milling around waiting for the race to start. Of course he wasn't nervous, but something told him that he was going to sorely lose this race.

With a sigh he got out of the car, scanning the area for his pink-haired rival. He couldn't really pick out her tell-tale hair—he saw the blonde woman, and his coworkers, but not the diva. It was late… Where the hell was she?

That was when he heard a roar from behind him, and a motorbike skidded to a halt next to him.

Atop if, of course, was Sakura. Her pink hair peeked out from under the helmet, her clothes made of skintight black leather. He had to bite back a groan and the beautiful view of her body, instead settling for a scowl.

"You're late."

She shrugged. "I got lost on the road of life. R'you ready to go?"

The Uchiha nodded. "Then get in your car, damn it!"

He sighed. She sounded far too excited for her own good, but he didn't get a chance to remark on it before she bounded up to Ino, who grinned at grabbed the flags before shooing Sakura back to her bike. He took that as his cue to back in his car. Buckling up for good measure he started it, revved the engine, and pulled up to the starting line that had been so conveniently painted in—you guessed it—pink.

Her motorcycle revved as she bent low over it, holding it up with one of her tightly-clothed and very desirable legs. It was harder not to notice the roseate than her blonde friend, even though Sakura was far more covered. That just proved that she was classy, and there was nothing wrong with a classy girl…

…Y'know, until thoughts of said girl distracted him enough that he didn't notice the start, and she tore ahead of him.

Damn it. The Uchih'a eyes narrowed as he sped after her with a squeal of tires and fangirls.

- $ -

Hah! She knew it had been a good idea to wear this. One: it was aerodynamic, and two: it was distracting, so she had the upper hand. See? She didn't cheat. She just used what she had to her advantage, and that happened to include her body and the track.

Yes, she had raced here before, and yes, she had won all those races. Why? Because as opposed to some flashy car she chose a bike, and bikes could fit in places where cars could not. They had never specified they could not use shortcuts, after all.

It was around that time when she heard roar of his engine from behind her, the headlights reflecting off the mirrored visor covering her face, She took a sharp turn to the left as he pulled closer until they were neck and neck, and through the window she could see him smirking at her. Bastard.

He pulled ahead, obviously just dying to tell her how foolish she was for using such a useless vehicle as he got right out of her sight.

Sakura raised a hand to yawn as she turned into a dark alley, ignoring the shouts from the street folk who had apparently never seen a race before.

About six minutes later she could see the finish line, the sound of his car echoing in the distance. She could hear cheers erupt as she came into view, slowing down as she crossed the finish line rather smugly.

Less than a minute later he arrived to see her leaning against her bike, tapping her foot almost impatiently with a smug smile tugging on her full lips. The car screeched to a halt before he cut the engine, getting out with a cool glare.

Uchiha Itachi did not lose. "You cheated."

She scoffed, flicking back her hair. "I did no such thing. I followed the route: I just happened to know a shortcut..."

"We never—"

"—said that there was no shortcuts allowed," her tone was dry, bored. "So where's my money?"

Itachi clenched his jaw before going to his car, unlocking the trunk, and tossing a case at her. She opened it with flourish, and was only too pleased to see that yes, he was not lying; the cash was real, and it was all hers.

"What is the interest you require?"

"Oh, right. That," Sakura laughed, snapping the case shut. "You tell me when my job interview is."

Itachi paused, stared, then raised a brow. "You won, though."

"Yeah, so? I just find toying with you far too much fun," she shrugged, verdant eyes glimmering deviously. He sighed… This was just what he wanted. Oh yes. That and his untimely demise.

"You have the job if you want it. You start Monday."

"Mm… Sounds good to me," she turned to leave and he could not help his subtle stare, but it seemed she caught on. "And if you wanna stare, Itachi, you should ask me out… You'd be able to stare at a lot more than this."

And, for the first time in his life, the Uchiha felt his neck heat out of embarrassment.

Yes, this woman was going to be the end of him… But he didn't bother to stop himself as he trailed after her, the time and place of a date on his lips. He could only pray that she said yes.